Odd Comforts
by Raiast
Summary: ONESHOT. Draco finds Ginny in the Astronomy Tower and they have a little chat about life. One of my only NONromantic DG...be proud of me!


"Weasley?" I knew it was her. The question was redundant.

She didn't turn, or acknowledge me in any sort of way. She just kept staring out across the grounds. It looked as if she were trying to decide if she was content with studying everything morosely, or if she wanted to throw herself off the tower. I hoped she didn't decide on the latter. It would be quite a mess to deal with, and I'm sure Potter would waste no time in accusing me of the deed.

"I'm sorry--" the attempted words of consolement died in my throat when her brown eyes pierced my own. They were rich and light as they had been, but dark and cold. For a moment it felt as if the eye contact transferred all of her sadness to me; I felt it wash over my body like crashing, ocean waves.

"Are you?" I wasn't sure if she wanted an answer or not. She sounded as if she didn't believe me, while simultaneously hoping that I really was. I nodded.

"He was…a good bloke," I offered hesitantly.

She laughed; a short, hard, bitter sound that I had never heard her make before. "That_ you _of all people would have the nerve to--" she turned on me, and I decided to cut her off before she got all worked up and threw _me _off the tower.

"He was!" I countered. "Just because I didn't like him doesn't mean--"

"Just stop talking, Malfoy," she had turned back to the view of the grounds. Her voice was soft, and held a slight tremble. She was trying not to cry. I wanted to leave so she could, but she spoke again before I could move.

"You really think so?"

I stepped up next to her, leaning against the railing. "…Yeah. He _was _my favorite person to torment."

"I'm sure he'd be touched."

She was cynical, bitter. She never used to be like that. I didn't like the change.

"It's hard," I stated. She nodded.

She brushed a tear away. "I feel like throwing myself off the tower."

I had never been confronted with thoughts of suicide, and though I knew she was most likely just saying the words to say them, it made me nervous.

"It'll pass. Besides, you don't want to go leaving Potter--it would devestate him."

She shook her head, breathing something that sounded a bit like 'no it wouldn't'.

"What did you do when you found out?"

I was a bit taken aback by her bold question. I stuttered. "I uh… I don't remember. I remember feeling really shocked…"

"I threw up," she admitted. "Right next to his body."

"I'm sure he didn't mind," the statement didn't seem to help her the way I thought it would. "I did worse…when I found out about my mother…" she looked at me. I felt sheepish. "I uh… I fainted." She smiled a bit and turned away, as if trying not to let me see her laugh. "I didn't cry for my father. He…wouldn't have wanted me to."

She frowned. "That's sad."

"Not really. I'm sure no one would cry for me…" I trailed off, the truth of the statement slapping me bluntly across the face. I glanced to her suddenly, worried that I was right. "I mean…would you?"

She looked away, out over the grounds of Hogwarts once again. It took her awhile to reply, as if she wasn't sure she should, but when she did her answer was a confident, "No."

I tried not to feel disappointed.

"I don't cry for the enemies," she added to my silence.

I understood. "I try not to be."

She nodded. "You didn't have much of a choice."

Tense moments of silence ensued. I shifted uncomfortably, wishing I had had the chance to leave earlier, and knowing there was no way I could leave now.

"You didn't have a choice at all, did you?" she glanced over. I shook my head briefly. "It's sad," she continued, "that a lot of the people we despise and lock away and kill--the people we _think_ are the bad guys--a lot of them just got roped up in something they couldn't control. That parents are forcing their teenage sons into something that they want no part of… Inhumane, almost."

"Well I'd hate to disappoint you, but I'm afraid I'm a rare exception. Everyone else _wants_ to join. I'm the lucky one that go to prove their loyalty at sixteen. Everyone is jealous of me, when I just want to be like you."

She shook her head at that. "It's worse."

"I lost my family too," I argued.

"You have hope," she stated. "We've lost all of that. We have nothing."

"I want to help."

She turned and walked away as if she hadn't heard that last fancy of mine. Maybe it would have been better if she hadn't. Better for both of us. I thought she was gone, but her voice rang out softly behind me.

"You know…maybe I _would_ cry for you."

I felt a little better.

Fin.


End file.
